Confessions of a Designer Scarf
by lokiyan
Summary: We all know and love Chuck's scarf. Now it's time to tell his side of the story. :D Just plain old silliness. I hope you enjoy. Reviews, as always, are appreciated.


Disclaimer: I own nothing

A/N: This piece of nonsense comes from and is dedicated to the girls over at FF because they're just a bunch of crazy ol' people. Enjoy please.

Confessions of a Designer Scarf

The first memory that I have was in Bergdorf's. (I refuse to acknowledge the time I spent indignantly packed in a shipping crate on my way from Malaysia. I'm a claustrophobe with motion sickness.) So anyway, I was lounging on my rack, waiting for some fashionable young fellow to pick me out of the riffraff. I had a few false alarms - some middle aged businessmen with comb-overs and grandpas who needed nurses to accompany them - thankfully they all came to realize that they just weren't quite suave enough to handle me. I was getting impatient though, with all those stupid Burberry bitches giggling at me behind my back. They flew off the shelves, apparently.

It was a day like any other when Chuck Bass walked into my life. I was worrying myself to threads because I heard someone say that they were going to put me on sale. God forbid I end up with some tasteless schmuck who can only afford me when I'm half off. Then, as if the angels parted the clouds, I heard him.

"Blair's a girl. How difficult can it be to buy something for her birthday? They're all the same. Send some jewelry their way and they'll jump in the sack with you faster than you can say Tiffany. But, oh wait, poor guy. This is Blair I-want-things-to-be-perfect Waldorf we're talking about."

"She's my girlfriend. I want to get her something special for her 15th birthday. And I'm realy okay with her wanting to wait. I think it's sweet."

they turned the corner and I saw him for the first time. He was young, to be sure, but daring enough to mismatch a red, white, and blue argyle sweater vest with a pink button down. He sent my little label a-twitter when he snarled at an acid-wash denim purse as he walked by. Really, it's been an eyesore for me since it got here. He threw his arm around the shoulders of the confused blond who was staring at a pair of pearl earrings that I hoped were for his grandma.

"Sweet? Come on, talk to Chuck. You're really okay with not getting _any_ reward for your patience?" He took the earrings out of his friend's line of sight and urged him forward. He's an honorable fellow indeed.

"It's not like we don't do _anything_. Just not... that. It means a lot to Blair and it's kind of nice to know that I'm the one for her, you know?" Chuck's jaw tightened and he looked away. That's when he first laid his eyes on me. He let out a little smirk and I could hear the Burberry's sigh. He positively radiated with money and when he picked me up and unfolded me for inspection, I knew that I could find no better master to serve.

"Blair doesn't wear scarves, Chuck," Blondie interrupted our moment.

"And I'm sure she doesn't wear male brands either." He put me around his neck and I felt home. "How do I look, Nathaniel?"

"Like the father of all things patterned puked all over you. Seriously man. I can't even look at you right now."

"Why, Nathaniel, do I dazzle you?" He tucked me closer to him, my fibers brushed against the little hairs at the end of his hairline. He turned us toward the mirror and I nearly cried at the perfection of it all. "It'll be like my trademark. You know, like how Blair has her headbands."

"Isn't that what your bow ties are for? Now you're going to start collecting scarves?"

"Nathaniel, bow ties and scarves are two very different animals." He rolled his eyes at the imbecile. Good. "Besides, I have a feeling that I'll be a one-scarf man."

And with that, I was sold. No, really. He took me to the counter and paid for me and the bitch behind the counter suggested that he wait another day for me to go on sale. He smirked and said, "Please don't insult me. I wouldn't want it tomorrow."

"Young man, are you su-"

"I'm Chuck Bass."

* * *

My new existence took some getting used to. Master Chuck apparently knew everyone and everyone knew him. I was overwhelmed by the number of people who wanted to touch me and toy with my tassles, but I remained faithfully around Master Chuck's neck. Unless he wanted his privacy in the company of one or several females, of course. He was a lion among men indeed.

Then there were those damn bow ties of his. Most of them were intolerable company - whiny, self-absorbed, always had to be tied 'just right.' No wonder Master Chuck was tiring of them. There was one though, that I got along all right with. Its name, I learned was Bowie and the first time we met, we had been worn together. His shade of red matched mine perfectly.

"So, you're the new guy."

"Yup. But Master Chuck's brought me around everywhere lately so I have the inside connections to a lot of people and places, you know?"

"Oh, I completely get it. Master Chuck is fantastic indeed. Now if only we can get Mistress Blair to see things our way."

"Mistress Blair?" I remembered that name. Wasn't that the girl that Master Chuck and Sir Nate were talking about at our first meeting? "I only know of a Blair Waldorf, but she's seeing Sir Nate, is she not?" I could hardly acknowledge a trollop as the lady of the house.

"Well, yes, for now. But it is obvious to all of us that once Master Chuck is ready to settle down, Mistress Blair is the one for him. He always treats her differently, you see. And Sir Nate isn't very good to her either. She is a true lady." Bowie straightened himself a bit, all the while sneering at the blond tramp who was currently draping herself over Master Chuck and pushing him askew around his collar. "Mistress Blair was the one who named me, you know," he said with a sense of pride.

I was skeptical about this Mistress Blair. Really, I was only concerned for my master's well-being. But then I met Blair Waldorf, and my world changed for a second time.

* * *

The crowd was younger than the one that I'm used to and some of the things the girls were wearing made my tassels curl. Can't their parents afford mirrors? To my disgust, I got blond hairs stuck all over me when an abnormally tall lass threw herself at Master Chuck and Sir Nate. Apparently, this was Miss Serena, quite infamous in our circle, you know. She was very... sunny and happy, but she was one of the better dressed and it was apparent that we were fond of her.

Of course, the minute I felt Master Chuck's body turn in a jerk, I saw the future lady of the house descending those stairs, a white headband served as her crown. I felt the tension in Master Chuck's jaw when she greeted Sir Nate with a kiss and thought back to what Bowie had said earlier. I could understand why. The girl had exquisite taste as well, forgoing all the Juicy Couture and Baby Phat nonsense and draped herself in Chanel from head to toe. "Sweetie, can you get me a drink? I'm feeling a bit parched." With another peck on her lips Sir Nate ran away like an obedient little puppy and Miss Serena had bounced off to another part of the room. Mistress Blair (because there was no longer any point in denying it) turned her eyes to Master Chuck. "Please tell me you didn't bring any illegal substances to my birthday get-together."

Master Chuck leaned in and I was dangled against Mistress Blair's soft milky skin. "You'll have to frisk me to find out. What do you say we go up to your bedroom and-"

"Ugh! You're heinous." She pushed him back but the mischievous grin remained on Master Chuck's face. Still savouring that Chanel 5 perfume, I was sure. She turned her attention to me and ran a hand down the length of me, pressing me against the lapel of my master's suit. I felt him shiver slightly under her touch. "Well, this is new. And here I thought you were going to break out Bowie for such a special occasion."

"Ah yes, meet my newest investment from Bergdorf's." Then he allowed her to do something that no one else had the privilege to do. She grabbed a hold of one end and pulled me from around my master's neck in curiosity, my master's eyes on her with an indulgent smile all the while. She ran her fingers over me and held me up to the light in close inspection. "Does he pass the test, Waldorf?"

"The color scheme is classic, the material is a smidge above middle-class cashmere. Not bad, Bass. I'm proud." I liked this girl. "Didn't this go on sale the other day though?" That stung a bit.

"You wound me, Waldorf. Of course I got him full price."

"He... him..., you're determined to personify it, aren't you? Are you that short on friends?" She wrapped me around her neck and that first touch of her hair felt heavenly. It was infused with a dainty floral scent that slowly drove itself into my threads.

"Well, it does get lonely at night, since you repeatedly refuse my advances." She sent him a warning glare and that shut him right up - something else that no one had done. "Looks good on you Waldorf. Maybe we should reenact that scene from Titanic, with you laying on the couch... nothing but the scarf-"

"Boris." She pointedly ignored him.

"What?"

"I've decided. He shall be named..." She gently placed me back around his neck and in a seemingly coordinated motion, Master Chuck ducked his head to her height to accept. "...Boris."

"Why are you always naming my things? I think it's only fair that I get to name yours. Sandbox rules, Waldorf."

"I'm not as emotionally attached to my things, but if you must." Master Chuck smirked and picked up Mistress Blair's hand. "No! That's the ring Daddy gave me!"

He held on firmly and like the young gentleman that my young master is, he bent down to kiss her hand, a corner of his lip curled up. "I've got it." She raised an eyebrow in question. "Chenis." She held a confused look and to be honest, so did I. "Think about it, Waldorf. Chenis... Chuck's P-" She elbowed him hard so it must not have been something fitting for a lady's ear. Now I see why Bowie was concerned...

But Boris - a nice, esteemed name. Mistress Blair has taste enough indeed.

* * *

We waited long and hard for something to happen. Years even. I cannot tell how many of Mistress Blair's tears I've absorbed during the time Miss Serena had fled and Master Chuck held her in his arms.

Therefore, you understand my frustration when _it_ finally happened, I was stuck in the side compartment of the limo door. Every inch of me cheered on though, and Bowie gave me an excellent recap of both Mistress Blair's performance on stage and her performance in the limo. According to reports, a good time was had by all.

Worry not, my dear friends. There was an occasion when it was a bit nippy outside and I served my purpose well to Master Chuck and Mistress Blair while they were... occupied.

* * *

There was a whole saga in my history that I call The Cold War between Master Chuck and Mistress Blair that passed involving British Lords (his fabrics were awful) and crazy complex games that resulted in many, many lonely nights for my master.

He left me in New York when he left for Bangkok. Bowie was left behind as well. Mistress Blair came into his suite one night and took me with her. Her tears were absorbed by the label stitched onto me.

* * *

It had taken many more tears but the reunion occurred in time for the holidays and one day Mistress Blair came home and grasped at me. "Boris, we have to make Christmas extra special for Chuck this year."

In my naive mind, I thought that I was finally heading home. It had been a very long time since I had spoken to Bowie and there was much to catch up on. Imagine my surprise when Mistress Blair suddenly stripped naked and wrapped me around her nude body, ending in a bow atop her chest. This was not good for my blood pressure.

Master Chuck's face was priceless when he stepped into the room and even Bowie was frozen stiff (quite a feat for something made of 100% silk). Master Chuck lunged at us and the next thing I knew, I was on the floor and Bowie followed soon after. "Don't just throw Boris arou-Oh!" We couldn't quite see anything, but we had a decent enough imagination.


End file.
